Logan was sent away to school before he could prove himself as a big brother. Before he could play with her enough, make her laugh enough, because everything he did Rose thought was hilarious and fascinating. She crawled everywhere after him, would be walking soon. And he had to go to some stupid fancy boarding school, all because of some lousy scholarship Noah and Vee made him apply for. While Ewan got to see her take her first steps without him? That wasn’t fair.
Noah and Vee only wanted to get him out of the house so they could devote all their time to Rose, all because they lost their own baby girl and only child years and years ago. They wanted to make believe his sister was their daughter. They didn’t want her loving Logan more than them, and it was clear she did. She loved him more than anyone. So this wasn’t fair at all.
Logan mewls and whines. This doesn’t work, and he’s sent to school anyway. So he mewls and whines at school, and all that gets him is a cuff to the ear from the Proctor and getting sent to bed with no supper. Boys snicker and call him a crybaby. It isn’t fair.
But then a boy in another dormitory is rushed home quickly, and then another on that same boy’s floor, and the whole school is in quarantine for a week. Doctors come to examine them all, and that’s when Logan hears the magical word whispered from room to room: polio.
His escape hatch.
He is a good actor. His theater teacher thought him a brilliant Winnie the Pooh. He puts on a very good show.
The doctor tells the headmaster the child doesn’t appear infected, but the headmaster wants no chances taken. He’s sent home.
Two weeks pass and it’s evening. The nurse knocks on his and Ewan’s door and tells them quietly that their sister just slipped away. Ewan covers himself with his blanket and curls up tight, turned away from Logan. Logan hears Vee moaning. He can’t bear the sound, it’s creeping into him and taking root.
He runs past Rose’s room quickly, but can’t escape the sight of Vee, moaning ceaselessly, cradling the dead baby with her face buried in the tiny chest.
Not thinking where he’s heading, Logan finds himself on the back porch. Noah is sitting bent over on the steps. His head is cradled in his hands like Vee cradling Rose. Unlike his wife he makes no sound. He simply rocks on the steps, silently.
Logan sits next to him. He doesn’t know where he finds the courage to speak. “Uncle?”
Noah freezes. In the growing darkness, Logan senses Noah’s hands move off his face. He can feel his eyes on him.
Then he lunges.
The scars are helpful and necessary. They’re his red reminder of what he’d done, and whom he’d left behind that night.
He left behind a whiner, a crybaby, a cringing little coward who got his sister killed. Who shirked his duties so he could play big brother, only to end up murdering that little sister. He ignored the dangers.
A carrier, the doctor had called him, not knowing Logan was listening behind the door the night she fell ill.
Logan would never ignore the danger again. He would never be called crybaby again. He would never let love weaken him like that again. He wouldn’t love much, but when he did, he’d only allow it to make him strong instead, strong enough to shut out those he feels that love for. Strong enough to save them. Strong enough to keep them close and at arm’s length, always.
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